


Elvessssss

by LeilaSecretSmith



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, ELLVVESSSsss, Emma and Thorin both REALLY HATE ELVEs, Fourth Wall Break, Gen, birthday gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10980165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeilaSecretSmith/pseuds/LeilaSecretSmith
Summary: Emma and Thorin bond through their mutual hatred of elves. The narrator makes an appearance.Happy birthday Emma!





	Elvessssss

The night was dark and starless, the sky concealed by a thick layer of stormclouds. The storm had yet to reach the company’s camp, though they were close enough to see the lightning that roiled in its depths. Half the company was weatherproofing their shelters; the other half, led by Thorin, was sitting around the campfire brooding.

Because really, that’s what Thorin did best: brood.

No one else could quite match the majesty of Thorin’s brood, but they sure were trying. Kíli, in particular, was working very hard on an especially black scowl. It just made him look constipated, but no one had the heart to tell him.

Directly across from Thorin was the Company’s improbable sixteenth member, Emma. No one quite knew how she had gotten there, and no one really wanted to tell her to leave (mostly because she had a bad habit of brandishing about her _very sharp_ weapons whenever someone brought up the subject).

The human woman came closest to matching Thorin’s majestic brood; the effect was somewhat diminished by her soft features and colorfully-dyed hair. She scowled down at her anachronistic ceramic mug (emblazoned with the inscription on the One Ring. Gandalf had yet to notice) and took a swig like it was filled with whiskey.

(It was not. It was filled with hot chocolate.)

“Elves,” she muttered in her best Clint Eastwood voice. Her lip curled in disgust.

“Elves,” Thorin agreed in his Brooding Exile Growl™. His eyes flashed like the lightning in the approaching storm.

“Ellllvesss~” Emma hissed, glaring down at her mug as if it murdered a man.

“Tree-shaggers,” Thorin hissed in the same tone, pulling out a dagger and a whetstone purely for the Threatening Knife Sharpening™ aesthetic.

By this point, most of the company had noticed the exchange and proceeded to ignore it. The two did this _every night_ , and the entire Company was about ready to gag them both. Really, they all (except for Gandalf and Bilbo) shared the same disdain for the immortal tree-huggers, but _must_ Thorin and Emma have been so obnoxious about it?

“They think they’re so much better than us,” Emma snarled, clenching her free hand into a fist.

“They think they can just leave my people to _die_ ,” Thorin barked.

(Thorin and Emma need to calm down, as the author is running out of good angry-speaking verbs.)

“I—ah,” Emma sat up suddenly from her Aesthetic Brooding Slouch™, a confused expression on her face. “Aimee?” she leaned over and pushed aside the leaves of a nearby bush, revealing a woman curled up behind it, typing furiously away at a laptop and narrating everything as she wrote.

“You asked for this, Emma,” the narrator said, eyes gleaming with an unholy light. “I am merely delivering.”

Slowly, Emma allowed the leaves to fall back into place, obscuring the woman; her muttered narration faded into the background.

An awkward silence fell over the company. Emma coughed uncomfortably and turned back to her mug. “Let’s… let’s move on,” she said.

“Elves?” Thorin offered, looking faintly relieved.

“Elves,” Emma agreed, clenching her fist.

The rest of the company rolled their eyes and went back to their business as the cycle started again.


End file.
